and i just want to write,?and write,?and write,?until my heart comes pouring from my fingertips,?and broken words fall from broken lips.?broken words for broken people,?who hold onto their coffee cups?as if they’re holding onto life.?and so i drink black coffee at 5am,?hoping to raise the dead,?inhaling to begin again.?awake oh sleeper,?see the sun,?start again.?